Chapter 2 WHERE WAS I

Juanita's POV:

Where was I? What was I doing here? How had I gotten here? This was a king-sized bed, not mine, so who'd put me in it? Had I been kidnapped? Was it Robin who had me? What on earth was going on?

These and a million more were the questions I had on my mind as I woke up, in an exquisite room, with a start. It was day and the sun was already out; though I didn't have a watch, I knew it would be, at least, 9am. Raising my head and body with such force, my first instinct was to dash out of whoever's bed this was and call for help, but then the hangover headache that hit me caused me to lay on my back and place both palms on my face, bringing back all the memories:

I remembered seeing Robin fucking another woman, and I remembered that it had taken a massive toll on me. I remember that I'd been so broken after leaving his house that I cried for hours. I also remembered taking the decision to go find a spot and have a few drinks to numb the pain I was feeling. I remembered drowning myself in shot after shot of Tequila until I saw a stranger speaking to me.. After this, I couldn't remember anymore. Was it him who had put me here?

"Good morning, Juanita," a voice said, startling me out of my thoughts.

I sat up, slowly this time, and took a good look at the speaker. He was tall, with a head that was cleanly skinned, complemented by a full beard and a neck tattoo. Seeing him dressed in a plain, white shirt and corporate trousers with brogues, I could tell that he was a man with a few digits in the bank.

"I hope you had a good night's sleep," he said, smiling calmly at me. Something about him felt... Maniacal. To worsen matters, he'd called me by my name, so that was even creepier.

"How do you know my name? Have I been kidnapped?" I asked, not willing to beat about the bush. I wanted to know, directly, if this was a 'good morning: from a Good Samaritan who'd helped a drunk girl or if this was a 'good morning' from a captor who was about to state the terms of release to a hostage. "Because if I have been kidnapped, I'm afraid you'll just have to kill, sell or release me, because neither me nor anyone I know is in any position to pay a ransom."

He chuckled softly before replying, "Relax.. My name is Joachim and I can assure you that you've not been kidnapped. Judging by the state I saw you in, last night, you probably have nothing of value, anyway."

That remark stung me like a billion bees. Who was this guy, and why was he being so mean? Also, what "state" was I in last night?

"I know your name because you told it to me last night, and I like to think that if I were to kidnap someone, for any reason, I wouldn't put them in a king-sized bed or let them wake up in Gucci pajamas.."

As he mentioned this, I finally took a look at myself and realized that I was indeed in Gucci pajamas. But I didn't own a pair of these and I wasn't even wearing them last night. "How did I...?

"Yes, I put them on you. Your own clothes are in the bag beside you. You were reeking of so much alcohol and I couldn't help but feel the need to do something about it," he said, answering the question I hadn't even finished asking.

"Well, thanks, I guess," I said, still unsure how to feel. "Did you..?"

Again, he cut me off: "Did I see your naked body? Yes, I did. Did I touch you? Only in the necessary places to take off your clothes. Did I sleep with you? No."

He said these words nonchalantly, so nonchalantly as though I was supposed to just feel consoled that he didn't sleep with me, even though he saw me.. All of me. I could see the glint in his eyes, that predatory look, and I knew that although he hadn't taken me, last night, it was well within his capabilities.

"That doesn't make me feel better, you know," I pointed out, ashamed.

"I know but, quite frankly, I do not care. Would you have preferred me to leave you, drunken as you were, in that club for some actual rapists to find you and have a field day with you?"

As he asked this question, he looked me in the eyes. My silence and the rebuked look on my face gave him his answer, and he continued triumphantly, with his hands in his pockets.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I thought. But I would like to know.. Why were you drinking so much, anyway?" He asked me with a look of sheer curiosity, not concern, on his face and I could tell that, although this man had helped me, he wasn't a really good man.

This question brought back the visual pictures, memories and pain of Robin's and Xana's betrayal, all at once, and I but my under lip, feeling the stabbing hurt all over again. This was personal information but, then again, this fellow had helped me out last night so he deserved a little bit of closure. Plus, he'd seen everything there was to see about my body so I literally had nothing left to hide. So I bared it all to him.

"My boyfriend.. He.. he cheated on me.."

"Ohh.. That's.. sad," Joachim said, "with a best friend of yours? Your sister, perhaps? Like in those Filipino series?"

I shook my head and sniffled; the tears were coming back. "Best friend. Well, ex best friend, now. He'd mentioned that she casually came over one time, and I had actually walked in on them before, but they hadn't been having sex, then, they were simply playing video games together. I remember feeling odd about it but I didn't want to seem possessive or jealous so I let it slide. Now, look at me.."

Joachim stood, hands in his pockets, listening as I spoke, and to my greatest surprise, he burst into laughter.

"What? What's funny about anything that I just said? Stop laughing!" I demanded.

But he didn't. My protests only made him laugh harder, so I waited for him to compose himself and tell me what his otherworldly reason could be.

"I'm sorry," he said after about a minute, still stifling laughter, "but it's just funny to me that there are still people in this world who believe, and allow themselves to fall, in love. Love is pain, love is vulnerability, love is weakness. When are you guys going to learn that?"

I opened my mouth to defend love, but I remembered that Robin - who I'd loved - had just shattered my heart so I was in no position to speak about the wonders of love, before Joachim would laugh at me, again.

"Listen, Juanita, do yourself a favor. Forget that man; forget every man. Focus only on yourself and direct your energies into things that make you stronger and better. This mentality of mine has made me the black sheep of my family because everyone thinks I'm a dark, sick soul, but every time I get proven right: love is death. Take my advice.. Never fully commit to anybody, anymore. If you need good dick, then you get it but never start loving the man. Go to him for his dick and nothing else."

"You're a sick man, Joachim," I said, flabbergasted at his reasoning.

"Nope, I am a smart man who has no time for emotional attachment. Do yourself a favor, get up and get in the shower, then go find a job or something to keep you busy.."

"Well, I guess you're.."

I was about to say 'I guess you're right' when I remembered:

THE JOB!!! I WAS SUPPOSED TO RESUME TODAY!!!